


Learning French and the Language of Love

by nonky



Category: Nancy Drew (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29983188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonky/pseuds/nonky
Summary: George carried her tray behind the counter, avoiding the mirror. She knew how Odette would be looking at her. It was bad enough to be possessed and unable to have any privacy with her boyfriend. The judgmental glares when she kept her troubles from him were pretty hypocritical coming from the actual troubled spirit. If Odette wanted to foster healthy relationships, she could give back the portions of George’s life she was stealing.Spoilers up to episode 2x07, and from the promo for 2x08.
Relationships: George Fayne/Ned Nickerson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10
Collections: Nancy Drew TV Series (2019)





	Learning French and the Language of Love

If people had to put their childhood nicknames on resumes, no one would ever get hired. Even The Claw had to have some criteria to weed out the very inappropriate hires. Of course, if it was a call between good help and no help, George was sort of used to the latter.

The bell above the door jangled an arrival, and second generation Sea Queen Nancy Drew stumbled in with a beeline right for Bess. 

“Nancy?” Bess looked panicked as they huddled up, Nick and Ace not quite catching the split-second team meeting since they had to join from the kitchen. 

“I think I just met your husband at the hotel,” Nancy said quietly. “He showed me your picture from Diana’s birthday and said he was here to find you.”

Their resident fancypants actually clutched her pearls and went pale, signalling they were off on another adventure none of them wanted. 

“Holy - ugh, Bess, really,” George muttered. The two disappeared into her office without asking, and she allowed herself a moment of disdain before going back to work.

Nick licked his lips with his usual thoughtful silence, and Ace wiped his hands to follow and provide emotional support, leaving an empty kitchen right before the lunch rush.

“Secret husband,” she said crisply. “You know, because we haven’t had any drama for the past fifteen minutes.”

Having processed the information, Nick continued wiping down menus in Bess’ place. “Maybe she had to hide from him,” he said diplomatically. “I don’t think anyone our age gets married because it’s such a good idea. She didn’t look happy to be found.”

It wasn’t that she didn’t care about her friends, but their difficulties as long-lost heirs to wealthy local families weren't relatable. The Fans were blue collar working people, and they all knew exactly how little money they were set to inherit. The social order was clear from the beginning. 

George’s nametag would have to very ironically read ‘Mulan,’ given by classmates who didn’t like her in elementary school. She would never pass as a princess or a warrior, and the kiddie version of racism was a slap. Way back when Nancy Drew was already a famous detective, Ace was a noob hacker, Nick was a star athlete and Bess was living out her secret debutante humble roots, George was hustling like a working single mother and a full time student.

If she’d been more popular, made more close friends, someone might have spoken up for her. They might have noticed she was fifteen and crying in bathroom stalls because her married boyfriend wouldn’t return her calls.

Never the favourite student, she didn’t have time to be exceptional like Ted or passionate like her middle sisters. She had been running home after school for as long as she could remember. There was no time for clubs or extra credit assignments. Her sisters had needed her to step in and give Victoria Fan the downtime she required to muster the energy to look after them during the next school day. 

Social workers poked their noses in, got the snappish edge of all the Fan women, and promptly retreated to a safe distance. The mental picture of being trapped on a tiny fishing boat with her caustic humour had spared George from the family business. It also forced her into finding her own living. 

The Bayside Claw was a lifeline for her family. The government unemployment cheques and occasional child support money covered feeding three of them, but not four or five. Thanks to a lot of leeway about scheduling, Victoria had even managed to keep the job long enough for George to get hired as well. They brought the smaller girls to work and parked them in a corner booth, shushing them and bringing free fries for dinner. 

It became a glaring reality a four hour shift by George was worth her salary and Victoria’s combined. Her mother’s nudge toward retirement let Victoria take her chaotic energy out of the restaurant and freed up the babysitting table for paying customers. In return, George learned anything she was taught and remembered more than most managers. 

Money solved so many problems more than good grades, and working pushed out homework. It was important to be stoic because people knew Vicky Fan drank a bit. If George was too stressed someone’s good intentions might dial the social worker’s office. She learned to be polite and quick to bribe irritated customers with a free soda refill or a dessert. 

Unlikely success at the restaurant doomed her social life. George used her free time meeting Ryan or looking after her sisters. Everyone knew she wasn’t going to go to a party if she could make Saturday night tips. She couldn’t be out of town playing an away game on a long weekend. Her extracurriculars were a blank space. 

The Claw wasn’t a palace and she would never be a princess or a proud warrior. At best, George was hardy like a cactus or self-contained like the clams for the special. She was nobody’s favourite thing, but she showed up each day. She didn’t sit well with everyone, but that was their problem. 

So when Nick did little things to help out, she sometimes had to walk away. It was great he was there and she loved him. He wasn’t a permanent fixture. It would be stupid to get married, and the restaurant was a pretty feeble investment for someone with millions of dollars. His family was in Florida. It only made sense Nick would want to rebuild his life where he could see his relatives. 

“I’m sure Nancy will help her sort it out,” she told him. “In the meantime, I’m going to assume she’s going to need the day off to keep hiding from him, which means I have double the work to do.”

“Hey? You don’t have to do everything yourself. We’ll knock on the door and get Ace back to work, and then you tell me what needs to happen. I’ll do anything except wear the waitress uniform,” he joked. 

George carried her tray behind the counter, avoiding the mirror. She knew how Odette would be looking at her. It was bad enough to be possessed and unable to have any privacy with her boyfriend. The judgmental glares when she kept her troubles from him were pretty hypocritical coming from the actual troubled spirit. If Odette wanted to foster healthy relationships, she could give back the portions of George’s life she was stealing.

There was an internal jangle of anxiety that wasn’t her own, and George hissed between her teeth. “Quit it!”

“I’m sorry, I was just trying to make you smile.”

Nick had his head down scrubbing at menus harder than ever, his cheeks flushed as he tried to forgive and forget another insult from George. She reached over the counter to take the stack away from him. 

“I meant male wait staff in a miniskirt would have everybody quitting,” she said more kindly. “I personally like your legs, but I don’t think Horseshoe Bay is ready.”

“I was wondering if you were waiting for me to shave them or something before you’d spend the night again,” he said shyly. “I know you’ve been dealing with some stuff, but I miss you. We both might catch up on sleep if you could stay over. I’m trying not to bug you too much. I feel better when I can see you’re still here.”

George knew she was still there. Her back hurt at the end of a long day, and walking home was tiring. Even more tiring was realizing she hadn’t been making it home. Odette’s lengthy stay seemed to be giving her more power to borrow control. Walking a scared college girl to the bus station wasn’t diabolical, but it wasn’t a good night’s sleep. Nick must have assumed she was at home, while her family thought she was with him. That left her nights unknown.

“I’m not gone,” she said. She tried to bring her shoulders down and lighten up her body language. “I’ve been working through some weird feelings about how I’m not gone. We’ve all been really careless with ghostly favours. I need to know the cost of getting to stay.”

He looked angry for a moment, and hid it expertly. She was gradually teaching him to clam up with her, and George wasn’t proud of herself for it. 

“I don’t care about the cost. It was worth it,” Nick said firmly. 

“It was, I hope. I felt the need to clear the air around me. With my genetic sensitivity to spirits, it’s worthwhile to know a few cleansing rituals. I drink the stinky teas my mother makes for me and I read up on some sacred chants. I’m not avoiding you on purpose.”

He stared at her, needing something emotional she tried to give freely. It was hard to be open while feeling fractured in her identity. George had only just started managing as a functional adult. 

“Ace said after his accident he was kind of out of it for a while. If you’re feeling depressed or overworked or stuff, you know you can take all the time off you need. I can’t run this place without you, but we can cover it. I should have increased your pay anyway. You shouldn’t have to wait tables when you manage the place.”

Her heart ached at his obvious worry. Prison hadn’t done a thing to change the sweetheart his mother had raised. It hurt George both their lives had been so difficult. The common ground was what made them work as a couple, but she could have done with a lot less trauma. 

“You’re so good to me, and yes, I know I could rest, “ she told him. “Too much time off would be weirder. The next time I spend the night, I want it to be a celebration for just us.”

She would buy a really nice champagne in Odette’s honour and toast her ghost ass if she would move on peacefully. Nick looked at her differently than anyone ever had, and that warmth of preference above and beyond anyone else he knew wasn’t something George would risk. He knew her. He didn’t need to be looking for tells Odette was perving on them. 

Nick was an ocean of hard-fought patience. “That sounds really wonderful. Name the day, and we’ll both book it off. In the meantime, I hear some cars pulling up and I don’t think the fryer is heating up. Do you think you can get Ace back to help me out?”

If he was worried about insensitively interrupting girl talk, George would argue Nick was better at finesse and tact. At the same time, their management arrangements worked better with her being the bad cop to his laid back owner rolling up his sleeves. 

“I’ll go get him, and let Bess off the hook. She shouldn’t be out in public. If this guy really is her husband she needs to go to Mr. Drew and get some options,” she said. “Hey, if it’s okay with you, we might need to hide Bess at your place. My house is crowded, and Nancy’s turns into a hub of police or supernatural activity on the regular. Ace actually lives with a cop. The Marvins have all that security, but their house is like Buckingham Palace. You can spot it from space.”

Nick nodded, his gaze going inward as he thought about their newest group crisis. 

“Give her your key and tell her to make herself at home. She might want to pick up some food if she’s going to stay a while. I eat most meals here and shopping wasn’t a priority.”

George put her hand on top of his and left it there long enough to watch him smile down at the contact. “Lunch rush incoming,” she said, back to business.

“Right.” His tone was a little frustrated, but his walk was looser as he went to work in the kitchen.

She knocked at the office and let herself in to find Bess brushing at tears. Nancy had her phone out, and she was listening to instructions from the other end of the call. Ace was rubbing between Bess’ shoulder blades and making little shushing noises. 

“Hi, I know this is a whole thing, but we have customers. Ace, if you can work today I need you to do that,” she told them. 

“You should go,” Bess said. “I’ll be fine with Nancy.”

Ace made a face, but he hugged her. “I have my phone on me all the time. Florence and I will come get you whenever you need. Call my dad if you need to. He’ll understand why you can’t call the police station.”

Nancy's phone call wrapped up with a curt ending that made it hard to tell if she had been talking to her father. She seemed on better terms with both Carson and Ryan than before. Getting the Aglaeca curse lifted had taken the edge off a lot of the resentment. 

“We are going to go to Carson’s office,” Nancy said. “You’re going to hand him a dollar, and he’s going to have attorney-client privilege. That means you tell him everything and he can legally keep it to himself literally forever, or use it to help. Then we park your van somewhere and get you moved into my place.”

Bess stood up and she smiled meekly at Ace as he reluctantly left them. She looked at George sheepishly. 

“I’m really sorry to ditch work. I promise it won’t be for long.”

“It’s okay. Do what you need to,” George said, prying Nick’s spare key off her set. “This is for Nick’s apartment. He said you can couch surf there if it’s safer for you, though you’ll want to make a stop for groceries because he hasn’t bought any since he moved in. There are a few people coming in, so you should get out of here quickly.”

It was a little offensive how shocked Bess was to get a nice answer. She took the key and held on to it tightly. “Thank you for understanding. I’ll explain all this.”

George had seen her mother through three temporary stepdads and numerous boyfriends. It wasn’t unfamiliar to picture the circumstances of a hasty and mistaken marriage. But she was set on not judging the situation. 

“It’s okay Bess, just stay safe. Let us know if you need help kicking his ass. Now get out of here so I can tell anybody asking I’ve never seen you before in my life," she said. “Go on, you too, Nancy. I’m already not expecting you to make your shift tomorrow, by the way. Help Bess. Be a legal eagle or whatever.”

The detective looked grateful not to have to make a lot of excuses. “Thank you.”

She and Nancy walked in front of Bess to the kitchen door, George took her freshly scrubbed menus to the few tables seated. She straightened her back and recited specials, making sure each table had enough utensils. 

She wasn’t a hero or a princess, and she had a dead French woman bouncing around her mind. But she was still George freaking Fan, and she wore boots to kick the ass of ordinary days. Maybe one day she’d discover her own special talents and get a nickname she wanted.


End file.
